Forgive Me Brother For I Have Sinned
by Chloe Winchester
Summary: Sam and Dean's feelings after the door closes. Set Directly after The Rapture. Spoilers. No Flames, No Wincest. WARNING: DarkSam and Hurt!Dean rated for violence and language. Twoshot
1. Chapter 1

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--No Flames Please. I'm not asking for any. Thank you : ) --

**Forgive Me Brother, For I Have Sinned**

The door to Bobby's panic room closed, and I knew there was no going back this time. My little brother that I cared about more than anything in the world was a monster. And it was all my fault. I let this happen to him. I couldn't even save my brother from himself, how do these angels think I'm gonna be able to save the world?

It should have been simple movements to kill that demon. Just one slice across her throat would have been enough. But…but he drank her blood like a junkie that hadn't had their fix in over a month. How long had he been doing this? A week? A month? Since I got out, when? Was it something I could have prevented? Why did he start? Why is this something he seems to need?

I had no answers to these questions, and I didn't want them. None of this wouldn't have happened if I wouldn't have gone to Hell. Shit if I would have died two years ago like I was supposed to this wouldn't have been a problem at all. The apocalypse might not even be happening. Oh, wait, that's my fault too. Castiel wants me to stop it, they all want me to stop it…Cas, what the hell happened to him? He was scared when he talked to me in my dream. Dead scared. Something was seriously wrong, but not anymore. Now he's just a big a dickhead as he was when I first met him. The angel that I knew was gone now. He seemed to hate me, just like he did all those months ago.

What the hell happened to him? I could ask Anna, but she didn't want to talk to me either. I haven't talked to her or seen her since…And when I see her again she gives me the brush off. I shook my head. Whatever. Doesn't matter anyway.

"Guys, guys this isn't funny!" I closed my eyes and swallowed.

_What the hell are you doing?!_ A voice in my head bellowed. _Let your brother out of there, now! You can't keep him prisoner! What would Dad say if he were here?_

He'd say to KILL HIM! That's what he told me to do before he died, TO KILL HIM!

I can't. I won't. I still have hope that he'll come out of this human. Maybe if this works like I want it to he might go back to normal. Back to the dorky kid brother I used to make fun of all the time. The one that smiled and laughed and told me to shut up when I was being annoying. The one that called me jerk for the hell of it. Not this Sam. This Sam was cold, malicious, a killer without a conscience. He didn't care what happened to me anymore. I think he did when I first got out, but now he just doesn't give a shit. He wants his whore and his powers, other than that he could care less.

This isn't fair. I didn't want to be brought back just to lose what I cared about the most. I had a brother before I died. Now he was gone, lost in something horrible inside him. I'd like to tear it out. Whatever evil thing that was taking over my brother, I want to kill it. I want to tear it to shreds. I want to use what I learned from Alastair for a good cause. But I don't know how. Right now I'm praying that this works. I'm not doing this because I'm mad at Sam, or that I want to hurt him, or that I want to see him suffer, I'm trying to save him. I really am. This is an act of desperation, my last shot to get Sam back. The last resort.

"Dean! Dean, what the hell are you doing?!" His voice was muffled by the heavy door. I don't know what I'm doing Sam. Don't hate me. Please don't hate me. Understand what I'm trying to do, please. Understand why. I'm begging you.

_Let him out. Open that door, play it off as a joke and let him out. _

No.

_He's your brother for God's sake why would you do this to him?_

Because I love him. Because Dad told me to protect him. So I am.

_Open the door. Let him out. You're treating him like an animal!_

Stop it.

_Are you getting a kick out of this? Watching your little brother squirm in a cage?_

STOP IT!

_Open the door._

I can't. I won't. I'm trying to help him, you have to believe me.

_He doesn't._

* * *

Why was Dean doing this to me? Why would he leave me in this place? Is he trying to kill me like Dad told him to? He should have done it quicker then. This is just cruel. But he's been cruel before. For ten years. I looked at the metal door with hate in my eyes. I wouldn't give up without a fight. If he wanted me dead, if he saw me as that much of a threat he hasn't seen anything yet.

I can feel the thirst in the back of my throat. My hands won't stop shaking, even when I try and force them to. I scowled again at the door, hating the man on the other side of it. This was Dean's idea, not Bobby's. God my throat was so dry! Just a little would be enough. Then I could break through this door and show Dean how strong I really was. If he wanted to kill me, then he'd have to fight me, and I'd like to see him survive. He couldn't beat me. No, Dean's weak, a lot weaker than he used to be.

_Maybe he's trying to help you Sam._ The voice was quiet, barely even there.

How, by leaving me in this place to rot?!

_By keeping you away from the blood. It's not good for you._

How the hell would you know? You're just as weak as he is!

_Just because this makes you stronger doesn't mean it's a good thing._

You don't know anything.

_I know that last year you weren't evil._

I'm not evil!

_You're thinking about killing your big brother._

Because he's trying to kill me!

_Dean would never hurt you, even if you are evil. He can't._

Good, that should make it easier.

_Listen to yourself! You were trying to save Dean less than a year ago and now…_

I'm not weak. I can kill anything that comes near me. Lillith included.

_You're weak because of your arrogance._

"Dean, open the door!" I bellowed.

I dared him to. If he did…

I half smiled at all of the blood in my thoughts. No, Dean would not survive if we fought. And to be honest, I couldn't wait to get my hands on him.

_He's your brother._

I don't care.

_Then you really are evil._

* * *

"Dean, open the damn door!" I winced again. I had stopped myself several times from opening it. This was for his own good. At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

"I'm goin' to bed," Bobby said. I almost forgot he was there. I nodded. "You should get some sleep."

"I will." I said quietly. His face was concerned, and for a moment I thought he was gonna say something. But he turned and walked away, out of sight.

"Dean, knock it off this isn't funny! Just open the door!" I leaned up against it, sliding down to the floor. I felt my heart wrench painfully, so hard I thought it'd break.

"Dean, open the DOOR!"

I would not let him become a monster. I would not let what Dad said come true.

This was going against every nature I had.

"DEAN!"

I felt tears in my eyes, hot, burning. They didn't want to come but they were there. I buried my face in my hands and cried silently against the door, wishing that this was all a bad dream. On one hand I saw the face I had grown up with, the one that smiled, the one that counted on me, who tried as hard as he could to save me from Hell. And on the other I saw the blood soaked face that took such pleasure in ripping that demon from Amelia's body.

I cried harder at the memory, still trying to keep myself silent.

"Forgive me, Sammy."

--Feedback Please!--


	2. Chapter 2

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--okay, last chap. Wen 1, i lied. Sorry. : ) --

**F****orgive Me Brother, For I Have Sinned**

I was a little worried when Sam stopped talking. I could hear him walking around, pacing back and forth, pissed, I didn't doubt. Bobby had been gone for some time now and I was still here, still alone, still fighting with myself to just open the damn door. And I kept telling myself no. I can't do that. I have to leave him in there.

Those painful tears came back again but I pushed them away. They wouldn't listen though.

This just couldn't be easy, could it? This just couldn't be something that didn't hurt and tear at my heart like a hungry animal, leaving it raw and ragged. I gripped my chest, god it hurt so damn much.

God that constant pacing. I could hear the grains of salt on the floor grind under his feet as he moved back and forth.

I pressed my hands to my temples, trying to push the sounds out, desperately trying to make it go away. I wished I was anywhere other than here. Anywhere. Well, almost.

I tried thinking of somewhere better. Somewhere that wasn't dark, that wasn't soaked in misery, that didn't have evil seeping under the doorway. I could have thought of such a place, if the pacing would stop. My head fell back against the hard iron, sending pain throughout my head. It was better than being able to think. Maybe a bullet would be better. Maybe a bullet would last longer. Just right in my head…

"Dean." I looked up, startled.

"Cas?" I said hoarsely. I stood, surprised to see the angel here. He stared at me, his face void of emotion. "Somethin' wrong?"

"Other than the fact that you want to kill yourself." He said blankly. I flexed my jaw.

"You tell me in my freakin' dream to come and talk to you because of god knows what. Then I find out you got yanked from your body. You get back inside Jimmy and you tell me that you 'serve heaven' and 'don't serve me' and walk out of the place!" I snarled.

Pacing.

"And you wanna bitch at me because I thought about shooting myself for a second? You scared the crap out of me! Hell I thought you were dead! And you come back and say that to me. Fine, fucking fine."

"Dean, I don't-"

"You don't think, man! God, I can't believe I actually gave a damn. Or that I thought _you_ gave a damn."

Pacing.

"I do give a damn, Dean," Castiel said. "Why do you think I'm here?"

"To bitch," I said bluntly. "To point out something that I've done wrong, or something else that was my fault. Hell let's throw 9 11 into the mix, did I do that too?"

"Dean, stop," Castiel said. I felt those damn tears again. Once again I blinked them away. "Dean, I came here to tell you not to lose faith," I scoffed. Faith, yeah that was so easy to have. "And that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you the way I did." I was taken aback by the angel's comment.

Pacing.

I shook my head. I didn't have time for this.

"Thanks for the Full House moment Cas, but I kinda have my hands full right now." I mumbled. Castiel nodded.

"I understand," He looked at the floor, then back at me. "Be careful, Dean." And he disappeared again. I ran my hand over my face, sliding down the door again. I grabbed that familiar bottle of whiskey next to me and took a swig, relishing that burn. The pain was better than thinking. Thank god the pacing had stopped-

Stopped. Sam had stopped. I turned and looked at the door, waiting, for…something.

"Dean?" The voice was small, scared, shaking. "Dean, help…" A mental battle faster than lightning flashed through my mind, and my instinct won out. I reached for the heavy lock and gave it a hard yank. "Dean, please!" The handle came next, groaning as it came up in my hand. I darted into the room, running to the corner my brother was huddled in, ignoring the sound of the door closing behind me.

"Sammy, Sammy, look at me!" I said frantically, trying to lift my brother's limp head. "Sammy, what's wrong?"

"Th-the only th-thing wr-wrong is," His voice trembled, his eyes downcast. But only for a moment. Slowly a smile crept across his face, dark and cold. His hate-filled eyes looked up at me in amusement. "Is that you fell for that."

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It was too easy, far too easy to get him in here. I was getting out of here. I knew Bobby had gone and Dean was alone. And Dean was so easy to fool when he thought I was in trouble. Weak little idiot! As I grinned up at him I saw the fear in his eyes, fear I drank in and let it fuel me. He was scared of me. Good. Damn good. I brought my fist up hard into his jaw before he could move. I was getting out of here, out! But that doesn't mean it had to be in a rush. Dean fell onto the floor, disoriented.

He started to push himself off the ground. I kicked him as hard as I could in the ribs, hearing a satisfying cry from him. I giggled. The thirst in the back of my throat was so strong I could hardly focus, but I could pay enough attention to this.

"Sammy, stop it Sammy, please!" I kicked him again, this time in his face. He fell to the ground, spitting blood onto the iron floor. Now I know why Alastair liked this so much. He pushed himself up onto his hands, coughing. I kicked his ribs again. "Sammy!" He gasped, breath labored. I grabbed his shirt and forced his face up to mine.

"DON'T," I drove my fist into his face. "CALL," Another punch. "ME," And another. "SAMMY!" I hit him as hard as I could. I let him go. He fell onto his back. I gave him no time to recover and kicked his throat. Not hard enough to snap his neck, but enough to hurt like a bitch and make it real hard to breathe. He coughed hard and violently, clutching his neck, tears in his eyes.

"Please," He choked. "Stop, please!" Go ahead and cry. I wanted him to. I wanted to see those tears on his face. This is what he got for throwing me in here like a wild animal.

Blood fell from his nose, dark bruises already appearing on his face and neck.

I wanted more blood. I wanted to see more of his blood spill. I grabbed him by his injured neck and slammed him against a wall with one arm. He gasped for breath that I wouldn't let him have.

"You think I'm a monster Dean, huh? Well you're about to see just how big of a monster I am." I reached into his pocket, grabbing the pocket knife that I knew resided there. With a simple flick of my wrist it was open. I looked for some place that I could cut him, somewhere I could see blood. I shoved it through the fabric of his black shirt, ignoring his soft pleas, and tore it.

"God, you're so fucking weak, Dean. It makes me sick." I looked at the flesh I had revealed and grinned. He squirmed, trying desperately to get away from me. I laughed.

"Please! No!" He rasped. I pushed the knife into his skin and dragged down, nice and slow. He screamed, well, he tried to scream. I laughed again. I ripped another part of his shirt and cut the skin there. I shut my eyes and leaned my head back as he screamed. God, that sound was so good. Almost better than the blood. Dean didn't try and kick out to get me off of him.

You were right. He won't hurt me.

_Let him go! For God's sake he's your brother! Look at what you're doing to him! LET HIM GO, NOW!_ I cut Dean again as a response.

"You're right Dean!" I said over his strangled cries. "I am evil! And you can't save me!" I grinned when I saw the tears on his face. More fear, more pain. So good…

Tear another place, slice again. "Is this what it felt like in Hell, Dean? But this is different isn't it? Oh, yeah, I'm the one doing it." Tear, slice. Tear, cut. Tear, carve. I laughed.

"Sam, God please, let me go." He whimpered. So good…So good…

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I tried prying my little brother's hands off of my neck. I tried to swallow. Some things just didn't happen. Like this. Things like this just didn't happen. Little brothers didn't carve their brothers and smile about it. Little brothers didn't laugh at their brother's screams and pleas to let them go. No, they just didn't happen, to other people. But to me it did.

Was this atonement for what I had done downstairs? Is that why Cas hadn't come to help me?

The cold steel slashed through the skin on my chest, and Sam laughed like a maniac when I screamed.

"No, please, stop! God, please!" I begged. Harder laughter.

Help me, someone help me…Anyone, please.

This is a nightmare. And you can't die in nightmares. If you die you wake up, right? You wake up! God, Sammy, kill me. Kill me please!

"…I meant everything I said about you. How you hold me back. How _weak_ you are. You don't deserve to live. Especially after what you did down there. Starting the apocalypse, hurting all those poor people. You deserve this. I'm doing God's work, Dean. Just like you did." He grinned and pressed his thumb into an open wound. My shirt hung in tatters on my body, drenched in blood. One simple tug would take it off completely. This wouldn't kill me. Yet. This wouldn't send me to the hospital. Yet.

I marveled at the hate in Sam's eyes. He did hate me. I couldn't remember a time when he didn't. This was the only part of Sam I remembered.

I couldn't breathe. My throat was on the verge of snapping in half, I just knew it. I was breathing just enough to where I wouldn't pass out. Hot tears fell like rain from my eyes, I couldn't stop. I didn't have the strength. Pain pulsated through my body. But my heart hurt the worst. I would do anything to protect Sam. Anything. I could not hurt him if I tried. No matter what he did to me.

So kill me Sammy. That's the only way this will end.

He dropped the knife. I thanked God, but the thanks was short lived. Sam took me off the wall, his hand still in a vice on my neck.

"I'm bored. I think we should end this now." His hand squeezed tighter.

"Sammy," My voice was barely a whisper. "Sammy, please!" Tighter.

"What did I say about calling me that?" I coughed. Tighter, tighter. My world was becoming black around the edges, and fading fast. "Bye-bye big brother." As my eyes closed I heard a loud squeak and a thud. I felt pain rupture in my shoulder as I hit something hard. I heard Sam yell, then I heard nothing.

* * *

I sat up, breathing hard.

"Hey, Dean, you okay?" Bobby asked. I nodded.

"Yeah," I said. "I'm fine."

"I'm goin' to bed, okay?" He said. I nodded again. "You follow me soon, alright? You need to rest," I nodded again. "You sure you're okay?" Nod. "Alright." He turned and headed out of sight.

A dream. It was nothing more than a nightmare. A horrible nightmare that meant nothing. I was relieved, more than I could say. I stood, and that's when I felt it. Pain, horrible pain. Everywhere. In my head, in my throat, my whole torso, my heart. I looked down and saw the shreds of T-shirt that was left on lying on the floor, and the bandages on my body. I stood and went after Bobby, slowly. Agonizingly slow.

"Bobby!" There was hardly any sound. But the older man heard. "What happened?" I croaked.

"Sam beat you to hell and was choking you to death. I grabbed a shotgun and hit him in the back of his head with it. Then I got you the hell out of there."

My heart broke then and there. He had done it. My brother had tortured me. And he had enjoyed every second of it. I leaned against the wall, the cold touching my skin. I couldn't stand anymore. My legs wouldn't hold me up, from both exhaustion and disgust. Bobby caught me.

"C'mon, you need to rest, kid," The tears were there again, annoying and hated. Bobby saw them. "Dean, it's alright," He hugged me as I cried, unable to hold my sobs at bay. I was too tired. "We'll fix Sam, alright? We can fix this."

"Why? Why did he do this to me?" God my throat hurt so bad. I could still feel his fingers. I could still see that smile. Bobby sighed.

"I don't know, Dean. I really don't, but we'll fix this." I cried harder. There was no hope anymore. Not anymore. My brother was gone.

* * *

What have I done? What did I do to him? To my brother. To the man that had protected me since I was a baby.

I had hurt him. Physically, mentally.

The lack of blood had done it. It was all an episode of deprivation. God what have I done. I sobbed into my hands, hating myself. The fear I had put in his eyes, the tears, all of it. And I liked it. I had seen what the blood had done to me.

But I wanted, no, I _needed_ more.

His beaten face flashed in front of my eyes again. What have I done?

"Forgive me, Dean."

**END**

**--Once again, no flames Sammy girls. Just a thought. Feedback please!--**


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